Courtship and Beginnings
by moonservant
Summary: The end of 2.08 jumps forward two months. But for all the characters, some extremely important things happen. Turnadette focused, but extends to others as well.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am giving this a try. After watching episode 8, I was very confused about the timeline between various events, and actually a fair amount of time should have passed. So I want to explore what happened, and maybe continue it after the episode, but no promises on that end. Finally, you'll notice that I'm very vague on places. American who has not been to London yet, sadly. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and even some of the storyline. **

She didn't just feel like a new woman as she stood on the steps of Nonnatus House; she was a new woman. For the first time in over a decade, it was Shelagh Butler who stood on the granite steps, not Sister Bernadette. There was a sadness to it, but there was also a great deal of excitement. Today, she was going to begin her true calling from the Lord, at least she hoped. But first, there were many things she needed to do before that could truly start. Technically, she was still convalescing and now lacked a home.

"Do you know where you are going?" Dr. Turner, now Patrick, asked from his spot at the bottom of the steps. He was leaning against the aging brick wall and beaming up through the light smoke of his cigarette at her. She felt her face split as she climbed down to him and accepted one of her own, a habit she could enjoy with a bit more regularity now that she wasn't a nun.

"I have an aunt, my father's sister, not far from here. I wrote her when I thought I may not return and she is expecting me," she explained. To be honest, she was nervous about staying with Aunt Brennah. They were not very close, not for any negative reason, but she worried about her reaction to ending vows, especially given the reason. She knew many would question her faith and may assume she had been dishonorable to her position.

"How do you plan to get there?" Shelagh blushed at the only answer she could give, which would not go well after today's events, and because she knew what the next course of action would be.

"I thought I would take public transportation." Patrick laughed aloud, which she admittedly had not expected. He was a normally jovial person, but direct laughter was rare, especially in their line of work. If he was present, it usually meant a medical complication. She shrunk a bit against the wall and took another pull.

"Would you allow me to drive you and save both of us the trouble of having to find you later?" She could feel her ears burn red at his jest.

"I am familiar with transportation routes in the area, Doctor," she dared to whisper in protest. "But I thank you, and accept if I am not keeping you from other duties." She looked at him as he took her hand and lost herself in the warmth of his expression. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at her like that, hence why she no longer wore the habit, but it was the first time she could honestly enjoy it.

"This is the only thing I want to do right now." They both smiled silently and held their gaze for a moment. But at last he broke it and looked down at his feet. "Besides, you are practically still a patient and I do not believe it is a good idea for you to endanger yourself when you are still in a delicate position. I have some time before evening rounds and Timothy is on a cake hunt with Sister Monica-Joan. I won't be missed." That was one of the qualities she most admired about him. No matter what happened, he always put his responsibilities first.

* * *

Needless to say, Shelagh had been unnecessarily worried about Aunt Brennah. Admittedly, the last time she saw her was during the War, shortly after her son was killed. She had forgotten what a lively character her aunt was. It many ways, it was like being with her father again. Shelagh thankfully accepted a cup of tea as her stocky aunt returned from the kitchen. The doctor had stayed only a moment to stress the importance of Shelagh's continued rest and to promise to call in two days' time to check in on her. Currently, Shelagh was seated on a worn pink, floral sofa with about three blankets folded around her. Brennah was not taking a single risk. Her aunt settled into a matching armchair and took a sip of tea before speaking.

"You know I don't blame you. It's most curious after all. You were young, and a nun at that. Then you come down with consumption. Pah! I would leave to." And so the conversation would start.

"Dear Aunt, it's not like that at all. Tuberculosis is caused by germs, which I was easily exposed to many times. He was fortunate in allowing my disease to be caught so early that I could easily be treated, unlike so many equally deserving souls before. I did not leave the Order because I lost my faith. I believe it is simply God's will for me to pursue a different course." Her aunt gave her piercing look. A worn hand rested on her wrinkled cheek as her dark brown eyes looked over her niece. It was intense, but also such a kind, motherly gesture that Shelagh had to look into her tea cup to avoid becoming emotional.

"And what is this new calling? I'll admit, I'm glad to hear this is a joyous occasion, and your parents would be proud too. Though your father was a little… hesitant when you joined, he was also immensely proud. But do tell me as you seem to have some inkling of this path if you made such a decision!" Shelagh tried to fight the blush and smile tugging at her lips. Now was not the time to be a romantic after all. Aunt Brennah saw right through that though. "Oh praise Heaven! I am to be a grandmother after all!" Shelagh gasped at such a statement, but shared in her aunt's laughter.

"Yes, there is a man," she confirmed. "His wife, a very sweet woman, passed almost two years ago, and left him with a boy. They do fine, but Timothy does need a mother and a more stable home life, since he is so busy. I believe God intends me to give this family a second chance," she explained. Curiously, her aunt seemed off-put by her explanation. She set her cup on the table and leaned close to her niece.

"Darling, if you just wanted to raise this boy, you could have stayed a nun and been a governess. So while this is all noble, do you love him, the father I mean?" Shelagh shrugged off the blanket around her shoulders. Suddenly, it was much too warm. She and Patrick had definitely discussed their mutual affection, but that word had not been used yet. Shouldn't he be the first person she says it to? Her aunt returned to her happy self and settled back into her chair. "Say no more. It's obvious enough. But you won't get off so easy now! Tell me, who is this cheeky fellow courting a nun?"

"Dr. Turner, actually." She couldn't make eye contact and took a painfully large swallow of hot tea. She expected any number of things: he's too old or that sounds improper for a working relationship. Instead, she was met with silence. She looked over and noticed her aunt dabbing at her eyes.

"You know," she sniffled, "when you first decided to become a nurse, I went to visit your father to check in and make sure he was doing all right with you moving on, and with the war going on, it could have been much harder for him. I asked him what he thought of all this, and he told me, 'Well Brennah, it's not what I expected, but at least she'll meet a nice doctor from it.' Of course, that seemed to end when you joined the religious life, but, well here we are." She'd never known that, and Shelagh felt her own eyes begin to water. Her aunt quickly grabbed her hand though as she waved the other beside her. "Hush, hush! Don't you get all worked up either. He's proud of you, and there's no need crying over that now. I'm just a silly old woman, but you're in love! Plus, I can't have you trying yourself like that. Your gentleman wouldn't approve if he comes back and you're ill again. Besides, you need to rest up. I want to take you out tomorrow and buy you something half decent to wear. You look terribly dated, and that is no way to start this new life of yours." Shelagh smiled at that. She offered the money she'd been returned, but her aunt insisted this be her gift. She wasn't promising anything elaborate and there was no one else to spoil anyways.

"Thank you Aunt, for taking me in and being so kind," she honestly thanked her. Brennah waved off the thanks though.

"We're family. It's what we do for each other."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you to everyone for reviewing or commenting. It should go without saying, but critical feedback of any sort would be welcome. What's working? What's not? Chapter 3 should be on its way soon.  
**

Vanity is a sin. It was a basic lesson, but she couldn't help admiring her reflection in the mirror. Although her hair was still in a practical bun as neither she nor her aunt knew how to do those perfect curls Jenny or Trixie sported, she had traded in her dull, dated skirt suit and utility shoes for a mint green dress and modest heels. She even had a bit of make-up on! It was amazing to see herself as a real woman. Before, she was either a girl still growing into herself or a nun, a practically genderless entity. Brennah interrupted her admiration by reminding her of the time. Dr. Turner was due in five minutes, and she needed to be ready.

"And for goodness sake, do put a sweater on. You won't be catching a chill on my watch!" she scolded. Shelagh knew she was just fine, yesterday's half day of shopping proved she was ready for some activity, but she also knew that it did her aunt good to dote upon her. Her letters through the years revealed how lonely she was at times, and while she was here, Shelagh would allow the mothering. She selected a heavy white cardigan and walked downstairs. A tea tray was set on the coffee table as Brennah was determined that this be more a social call than a medical visit. Shelagh tried to remind her that he would be on duty and would be needed at the clinic, but the woman was determined.

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then fifteen. Brennah made a critical remark about promptness and Shelagh smiled at the memory of Timothy's jests about his father always being late. There was some truth to the matter, but the important part was that he did always arrive eventually. And at twenty minutes after 11, a car pulled up in front of the house and someone knocked. Brennah insisted on answering the door and Shelagh listened as Dr. Turner apologized for his lateness. He sounded tired and when he entered the sitting room, he looked worse than he sounded. However, he still gave her a smile when he saw her.

"You look lovely, Shelagh." It was still appropriately for company, but there was no doubt of the depth of passion behind the statement. She blushed, a horribly regular habit now, and thanked him. "I know I said 11, but I was held up with Chummy. She's all right though." Shelagh shifted slightly to face him as he sat down next to her and accepted a cup from Brennah.

"Chummy? Did she have the baby then?" she asked excitedly, but she knew that was the wrong reaction as his posture fell. "What happened?" He sighed and took a sip for strength as though there was something stronger than tea in his cup.

"I'm sorry no one told you. She hemorrhaged before she delivered. Twice actually." Shelagh gasped and had to remember that he said she was doing all right. "The surgery was a success though and both she and her son are just fine."

"Oh thank God," she whispered. She had seen such labors before and knew how dangerous they could be. More than once she'd lost a patient to similar situations, but dear Chummy was all right. She'd always had a soft spot for the woman since she was so different. "Could I visit her?" Dr. Turner started to speak, but Aunt Brennah cut him off.

"I should think not! Who knows what you could catch in there! You're still in a delicate condition."

"I appreciate your concern, but it was probably more dangerous to be out yesterday than a short visit to the hospital could be." It was actually debatable, but she wanted to see her friend. Both women turned towards the doctor who clearly saw he was trapped.

"A short visit would probably be fine, but perhaps your aunt and I would both feel better after a quick examination?" And this was how he survived in a clinic full of women. He may have been the doctor, but things ran smoother when the peace was kept. He took her pulse and listened to her lungs, and gave her a clean bill of health despite a slightly fast heart rate. "You do seem in tip-top shape, as Timothy's taken to saying. I wish I could transport you there, but I must be getting back. I trust your aunt to take excellent care of you though. But do take the evening and tomorrow lightly. You are supposed to be resting," he stressed.

"I promise, Doctor. I just need to see her," she explained. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze in understanding a turned to leave with a final goodbye. Brennah stopped him though.

"Perhaps, Dr. Turner, you would join us for dinner this evening? Your son could definitely join us as well."

"That is very kind, but I am on call this evening and need to be within Poplar."

"Tomorrow then? 6:30?" All Butler women were incredibly stubborn.

"Yes, that will all right. I will come by after my rounds then." And with that, he did leave. Shelagh sighed and looked at her aunt who was immensely pleased with herself.

"I wish you would have asked me first."

"Do you have any objections to them joining?"

"No, but..." Why was she arguing? "I think he may have been more comfortable if I extended the invitation is all. After all, he doesn't know you know."

"Well, if I didn't, I would know now. He's not inappropriate, but it is quite clear. Now come on, let's get you to the London so we can get you back home safely."

* * *

Chummy was sleeping when Shelagh entered her room. Peter was gone, but Sister Evangelina sat in a corner chair holding a blue bundle. the old woman, in many ways the stern, street-toughened matron people knew her to be, was secretly the most nurturing figure at Nonnatus in her own right. She just rarely showed a soft side, as was now evident as she looked at the babe. Shelagh had a great deal of respect for her, but she was also nervous about their first encounter. Where Sister Julienne had been supportive and understanding despite her sadness, she feared Sister Evangelina may feel she was a disappointment.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Shelagh whispered to make her presence known without disturbing mother or child. The nun looked up and her expression reformed itself into her normal, harden expression. By now, she knew not to take that personally.

"Actually your timing is perfect. My arm could use a rest. Constable Noakes said he was just popping out for a moment for lunch, but he's still not back and this little one is heavier than he looks," Sister Evangelina answered. Shelagh crossed the room and took the sleeping boy in her arms. It was true; he was heavy. "But I'm surprised to see you here. Aren't you supposed to be resting up? Shall we start calling you Sister Monica Joan now?" Her tone was stern, but there was also a vivacity to it that set Shelagh at ease.

"Dr. Turner said I could make a brief visit as long as I stay home tomorrow," she explained. "I would have come sooner though, but I just heard an hour ago." Sister Evangelina almost looked guilty.

"We don't have a number for you," but Shelagh also thought she may have been overlooked in the excitement. Out of sight, out of mind after all.

"How is she doing?"

"Oh, on track for a full recovery. The Constable says she has been sleeping on and off lately, so perhaps she will wake while you're here. It was a scary business." They fell into a companionable silence and Shelagh noticed the quilt draped over her.

"Are those Sister Monica Joan's squares?" she asked, feeling like she'd seen those squares before.

"Some of them. Others the midwives did. We stitched it together when she was in theater." Suddenly, Shelagh felt so distant from her foster family and she turned to focus on the baby. His lip trembled as he slept and she ran a finger over his soft face. She wished she could have been there, but she was in such a hurry to get away.

"I hope..." she started and her voice nearly cracked with emotion. "I hope I haven't been too much of a disappointment, Sister." She regretted the words as this was hardly the time or place to have such a conversation. But Sister Evangelina stood and placed a hand on her arm with that same soft expression she'd seen earlier.

"Never. You have always been an example for us all and if you pulled elsewhere, then I believe it is His will. I just hope you will keep in touch, because you will be awfully missed." It struck her how little about the future was known. Indeed, only Sister Julienne knew the majority of the situation. Did people think she was really leaving? Did this mean she could still be a nurse?

"I hadn't planned on moving, Sister. Poplar still needs me, but... I feel there are two other people who may need me as well in a way that the religious life would not allow," she confessed. Shock crossed the sister's face.

"You don't mean..."

"Yes, and only Sister Julienne knows. I ask, until anything is settled, for we haven't had a good chance to really talk things over, that you keep this a secret." Sister Evangeline remained silent as this processed.

"That sly fox," she suddenly declared, which caused the boy to stir for a second. "I understand why she didn't tell, but still!" Her expression then changed into such a face that she'd never seen on this person. If anyone was sly, it was her. "This explains why he was so eager to pop in on you this morning though he's not your doctor and you are a bit outside the community. And here we all thought he was just being charitable since you are one of us." Shelagh blushed a bit.

"I'm sure that was his main motivation. Dr. Turner is nothing if not professional," she defended him. The expression didn't stop.

"Professional, yes, but he is a man nonetheless. Don't be embarrassed, girl. It's a compliment and I trust you weren't improper." Another bit of silence. "Does this mean you might be coming back then? Once you're healthy again that is." Shelagh smiled.

"If Sister Julienne will allow it, I would happily continue my nursing." Sister Evangelina made some comment about bribery, but Shelagh was distracted as Chummy began to stir. She turned slightly and opened her eyes in a most content manner.

"Sister Bernadette?" she asked quietly.

"Hello, Chummy. How are you feeling?" she asked softly as she shifted the infant to one arm and took her friend's hand.

"I don't want to complain," she breathed heavily, "but I have rarely felt so low." How perfectly Chummy. Even after surgery, she was trying to be polite.

"Well, you did put up quite a fight bring this little one into the world. You deserve your rest," she explained. Chummy gave a sleepy smile and gestured for her son, who Shelagh gladly positioned near his mother. "Have you decided on a name for him yet?" Chummy stroked his hair a bit and seemed to forget the company for a moment.

"Not yet. We haven't talked about it much. Peter would be an obvious choice, but I feel it's not quite right."

"Well, it's good he won't know if he's named or not at this point. You shouldn't have been working so much!" Sister Evangelina interjected. Chummy gave a small chuckle.

"I can't help it. I don't like being idle. And with Sister Bernadette gone, I had to keep going. But now you're coming back soon, so I can take my time then."

"You heard that then?" Shelagh asked.

"Oh yes. And, I do say, it's fantastic that you're staying. But oh my, I guess you are no longer Sister Bernadette now. Forgive me," Chummy apologized realizing the woman before her would not longer have her religious name.

"There is nothing to forgive. It's Shelagh. Shelagh Butler," she answered the unspoken question.

"A wonderful name then. Well, pleasure to meet you, Shelagh." Chummy gave a great yawn and Sister Evangelina picked up the boy. "I hate to fall back asleep again after just waking up, but it's just awful." she decided then that she would leave to let Chummy continue to heal in peace as Sister Evangelina insisted she was no longer needed. Plus, her aunt was peering around the door frame, impatient to get her niece safely back home.

With a much lighter spirit, she returned home and dutifully resigned herself to bed for her own healing.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **Decided to do a short entry while I fight the chapter I had intended. Do enjoy!**

Peter sat by his wife's bedside as she slowly woke up. The nurse had already taken Baby away for the evening and he was debating between staying here another night in that awful chair or going back to Nonnatus for a proper rest to be ready for work in the morning. But that fight with himself could wait because Camilla needed him right now.

"Hand me some water, please Peter?" she asked through a yawn. He poured her a glass from the pitcher and accepted it back when she was done. "Thank you. What time is it?"

"About 7:30, Love. You missed the nurse taking him away. Perhaps tomorrow you'll be a bit stronger though," he said hopefully. Chummy took his hand and put a small kiss on his fingertips.

"I already am. It's still not comfortable, but I do think I should be able to go home soon," she said. Well, if anyone knew these things, a nurse would. It gave him hope. "We do need to name him." A part of him had hoped his son would have his name, but given that they needed to discuss it, he knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Well, we can't call him Peter. It would get too confusing when you need to keep us both in line. We wouldn't know who you were shouting at," he joked to keep her cheerful. "What about a family name? Richard? George?" She tried not to grimace, but her politeness was a little underdeveloped from the pain medications.

"It just doesn't sound quite right. Goodness, why is this so difficult?" she sighed. Peter ran his thumb over her palm.

"Well, he will be stuck with it, so better make it good. But really, a name doesn't make a person, so whatever you like," he assured her. Just not Sheldon. It sounded so ancient. His son was too charming to already be an old man. Chummy sighed again and leaned further into her pillows. "Given how well he named the pig, we could always ask Fred for his recommendation," he joked. Unfortunately, Chummy lit up. "Oh Camilla, I wasn't serious. We can do this." She shushed him though.

"No, Heavens. Of course not. But I think I might like Fred. To be honest, right before I went into labor, I confessed some fear I had about being a good parent, and Fred made me feel so at ease and sure that we will be just fine. I think I'd like to give his name to our son." If he was any other man, Peter would have been jealous that his son would have another man's name, but he knew how Fred was with the girls. In many ways, he was a second father to Camilla, and maybe to him too one day. "Fred Peter Noakes?" she asked. He smiled and kissed her gently.

"I think it sounds perfect."


End file.
